


F**king Footie Pajamas, Darling

by StagsInSilence



Series: Beyond Midnight [1]
Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Footie Pajamas, Kigurumis, M/M, Nigel being adorable as fuck, Pajamas & Sleepwear, Spacedogs, Spacedogs Appreciation Week, Stargazing, and so very much in love with Adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-24 22:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4937110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StagsInSilence/pseuds/StagsInSilence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Adam had no words as he looked Nigel over from head to toe. Nigel, the Romanian street thug without a last name, was standing in their bedroom with a smile like the Cheshire Cat. Dressed entirely in flannel pajamas. Nigel never wore pajamas. But this was so much different from your typical flannel pajamas. Adam was pretty sure he could see a tail.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>"Fucking footie pajamas, darling."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	F**king Footie Pajamas, Darling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [drinkbloodlikewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkbloodlikewine/gifts), [whiskeyandspite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Midnighters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338612) by [drinkbloodlikewine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/drinkbloodlikewine/pseuds/drinkbloodlikewine), [whiskeyandspite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeyandspite/pseuds/whiskeyandspite). 



> EDIT: I was re-reading this fic because I was feeling bored and self-indulgent and noticed how many AWFUL AND OBVIOUS mistakes there were! Decided to do a re-write and fix them and change around a few things. Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Dedicated mostly to wwhiskeyandbloodd because it was their Midnighters series that got me addicted to this fucking ship. Curse your Midnighters series and my love for them. Hopefully you don't take offense to this series that has been so very much inspired by yours.
> 
> But this is also dedicated to a certain sparrow of mine who helped come up with the original prompt idea. And also some of the dialogue. This one's for you, darling.

The Tokyo streets were busy. It was always fucking busy in Japan. There were people everywhere, illuminated by the multicoloured neon that indicated karaoke bars or strip clubs or seedy, late night massage parlours. It was more than a little fucking obnoxious to Nigel. Especially the groups of schoolgirls failing to be subtle as they pointed in his direction and giggled their tiny fucking brains out. Of course, Nigel wasn’t stupid. He was well aware that he was a sight to behold in the eyes of the locals. A chain-smoking white guy dressed in a shirt deemed grossly unfashionable at best, knuckles tightly bandaged but still bleeding through, and a face that said he recently walked away from the losing corner of a boxing match. Yeah, Nigel was well aware of what he looked like.

Nigel growled at the girls and continued to suck back the cigarette between his lips. He _should_ be resting, or at least finishing his packing, before his flight back to New York, tomorrow. But he missed Adam and calling him would just end up tripling his anxiety that was already through the fucking roof. Not to mention that, despite getting ambushed by a group of Yakuza wannabes, the deal with the actual Japanese mob was dealt with ahead of schedule. Cakewalks like this rarely ever happened and, it didn’t matter that it was a good thing, the details would worry Adam. Better to tell the sparrow in person when the stress of distance wasn’t a factor.

For Adam…

Sore, pissed off, and missing Adam like there was no fucking tomorrow, Nigel opted to burn himself out in the fresh air to prevent trashing his ritzy hotel suite. Round and round and fucking round he walked, or at least that’s how he felt since every goddamn building he passed looked exactly the fucking same. The kanji signs blaring down on his were worse than fucking Cyrillic.

And the he saw it.

The tackiest fucking thing Nigel had ever laid eyes on.

“Adam fucking Raki,” he chuckled with a grin wide enough to scare another gaggle of schoolgirls. He threw the dying cigarette butt to the ground and stomped on it before marching into the blinding florescent lights of the little shop.

 

“Adam, baby, wake up.”

Adam groaned and curled himself beneath the covers even further. He heard Nigel’s voice but knew that it was another delusion brought on by the loneliness that slowly devoured him whenever Nigel wasn't home. And Nigel _wasn’t_ home. Not until at least midday tomorrow.

“Darling, wake up.”

“Go away. You’re still in Japan.” Adam’s words were slurred ever so slightly as exhaustion filled his quiet voice.

Nigel groaned, standing over his sparrow with tense shoulders. “Adam,” he said, louder this time, as he shook Adam in a way that could only be described as Nigel’s version of gentle. “Wake. The fuck. Up. I’m home.”

Adam cracked an eye, caution evident in his squinty stare before realization hit. “Nigel? Why are you here? Your plane was due to arrive at 1:30 pm. It isn’t the afternoon. You shouldn’t be here. Why are you-“

“Sparrow, breathe. I couldn’t wait another fucking minute for that flight. Hopped a fucking redeye to see you, baby.” Nigel peppered Adam’s lips with kisses between his words, pushing back dark curls from brilliant blue eyes and breathing in the perfect scent of familiarity. “Now get up. I got something for you.”

Nigel disappeared into the darkness of the room and Adam made a small noise of displeasure as he sat up and rubbed his tired eyes. Nigel’s quick reaction had prevented Adam from spiraling into an emotionally exhausting state of panic, and he was awake enough now to paw for the lamp on the bedside table. He closed his eyes as he pulled the cord of the lamp and waited for the string of profanity that the sudden light would pull from Nigel. When it didn’t come, Adam felt his chest tighten and he opened his eyes. What he saw was not what he had expected, and Adam’s jaw dropped ever so slightly, lip trembling.

“What do you think, baby?”

“Nigel, I…” Adam had no words as he looked Nigel over from head to toe. Nigel Ibanescu, big shot Romanian street thug, was standing in their bedroom with a smile like the Cheshire Cat, dressed entirely in flannel pajamas. Nigel never wore pajamas, but this was much more than typical flannel pajamas. Adam was fairly certain he could see a tail.

“Fucking footie pajamas, darling. It’s supposed to be a fucking sausage dog. Like my shirt.” Adam’s face was one of bewilderment and silent laughter as Nigel went on. “Everyone has these in fucking Japan – they even have a special name for them. I got you one, too.”

Nigel turned and Adam laughed openly at the little tail that appeared to waggle as Nigel bent over to dig through his bag. It was back to bewilderment in the blink of an eye, though, as Nigel revealed his gift to Adam: another of the strange Japanese pajamas, this one a spacesuit made of plush, white fabric. Adam got out of bed and approached Nigel in awe, eyes never leaving the suit. He ran slender fingers carefully across the embroidery of the replicated NASA patches with wide eyes.

“What do you think, sparrow? Want to be a fucking rocket man?”

“Astronaut, Nigel,” Adam muttered, taking the kigurumi from Nigel in a manner that suggested it might shatter in his hands if handled too roughly.

“It’s a song, Adam. Put it on, there’s more.”

Adam’s brow furrowed but he didn’t look up. “More? Presents aren’t typically what you do when you get back. Usually you-“

“I know what I usually do, baby, and we’ll get to that later. This part isn’t a present. Just put on your space suit and get your shoes.”

“My shoes?” Adam finally looked up and saw Nigel holding up a key. It was dark steel and looked very old. It certainly wasn’t for any of the locks in the apartment, and Adam didn’t think it looked like a hotel key.

“I found this on the street before the Tokyo job. Some Wall Street prick dropped it while bitching at a cabbie. You know what it is, darling?” Adam shook his head and Nigel’s smile grew. “It’s one of those private park keys. And the sky is clear as glass.”

Adam understood instantly what Nigel meant and mirrored his ridiculous smile.

 

The ground was cold and a little damp. And the very idea of sitting on it made Adam fidget inside the sleeves of his new spacesuit pajamas. The crisp white of the fabric would get wet and dirt on the grass, or even the benches that were just as yucky as the grass. As Adam worried, Nigel read his face like a book. He wrapped a flannel-clad arm around his waist, nuzzling against the soft hood of the spacesuit.

“Don’t worry, darling,” he said. “I brought a blanket.”

With a small, disgruntled noise from Adam, Nigel pulled away with a quick kiss to the top of the hood of the spacesuit. Nigel chuckled at the noise as he unrolled the throw blanket had grabbed off of the couch as they rushed out the door. It was soft and thick enough to hold back the dampness of the grassy park field.

“There. All dry.” Nigel was proud of himself for thinking ahead like this, but Adam still fidgeted.

“But now the blanket is wet and dirty…”

“Only the one side,” Nigel sighed, sprawling out on the blanket. “I’ll fucking wash it, darling, now lie down.”

Adam frowned.

Nigel rolled his eyes.

In an instant, Nigel had pulled Adam to the ground and kissed the smaller man deeply rolling on top of him to pin his beautiful sparrow beneath him. Adam squeaked in displeasure at being forced to the ground, but the sound melted into a soft hum of contentment as smoke-dried lips moved against his soft pink ones.

“Look at the fucking sky, sparrow.”

“I can’t with you pinning me, Nigel.” Adam couldn’t contain his giggling as Nigel growled a string of his favourite Romanian profanities and rolled to the other side of the blanket.

With his eyes to the sky in this private corner of New York fucking City, Nigel had to admit it: the starry sky really was fucking gorgeous. The vastness of space stretched above them, star glimmering just like the skyscrapers of Manhattan, but this view _felt_ like so much more. It instilled peace in Nigel’s chest, completely removing the tension of living nightmarishly restless in the city. After a moment, he turned his head and watched Adam’s large blue eyes appear even larger as he took in the vastness of the sky above. His hood had fallen away from his head, acting like a pillow beneath dark curls. Like this, in the moonlight, Adam’s pale face appeared to glow.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Nigel whispered, voice so low in his throat that he wasn’t even sure if the words actually came out.

Adam kept his eyes to the sky and raised his arm to point. It took all of Nigel’s fucking willpower to look away from Adam’s flawless, fleece-clad, figure to follow his finger skyward. He couldn’t tell where it was he was supposed to be looking, but Nigel know he’d figure it out once his sparrow began to sing. And sing Adam did.

“There,” he started, “that’s where you’ll be able to see your star soon enough.”

“My star.” It wasn’t a question, but Nigel quirked an eyebrow and watched Adam with his peripherals.

The pale flush that dusted Adam’s cheeks made Nigel smile as he went on, “Well… I like to call it _your_ star, but it’s actually called Sirius and people might find it strange and confusing if I took to calling it Nigel. I like to think of it as your star because it reminds me of you. It’s the brightest star in the sky – well, not really because it’s a star system – and people call it the Dog Star. Not that I think you’re a dog – okay, maybe I do right now given your current attire – but you wear your shirt with the little dogs on it often enough that dogs make me think of you when I see them. Or think about them. I… um…”

Adam trailed off as he noticed Nigel had rolled onto his side and was staring at him intently. The expression on Nigel’s face made his blush deepen.

“Why are you stopping, darling?”

“Because I’m rambling. You just haven’t told me to stop yet.”

Nigel brushed a stay curl from Adam’s face, shifting closer to rest a hand on his waist. “Why the fuck would I bring you out here to see the fucking stars and then tell you to shut up about them? Tell me about the goddamn universe, baby.”

“…Really?”

“Yes, fucking really, darling.”

A small smile formed on Adam’s lips and he looked back to the sky as Nigel spooned him. He continued to talk about the smaller clusters of stars before moving on to constellations and their mythological meanings. Nigel only half listened as he buried his nose into Adam’s neck and breathed him in.

“I fucking missed you, sparrow,” Nigel finally said when Adam paused to – finally – breathe. “Fucking impossible to call you from that stupid fucking country. Worse than fucking Russia, I swear to God.”

Adam giggled, “You nearly died in Russia, Nigel. How was Tokyo worse than that?”

“You came to visit me in fucking Russia.”

“There are too many people in Japan,” Adam pouted, looking up at the sky again.

“None of them exist when you’re next to me, baby.”

“Nigel, that doesn’t make sense.”

Rolling his eyes again, Nigel cupped Adam’s soft cheek to bring his face back down and looked into his brilliant blue eyes. Their lips met gently at first, but then Nigel felt his need intensify and he pulled Adam closer. Adam’s eyes fluttered closed as Nigel’s tongue licked its way into his mouth and he shifted to lie on top of him, small mittened hands gripping at the flannel front of Nigel’s doggie pajamas.

“I missed you, too,” Adam murmured when Nigel broke the kiss first to catch his breath.

Nigel sat up, hands trailing down to Adam’s waist to hold him in his lap. Once again, he had to take his fucking time while looking over the beautiful man before him. Dark hair, soft features, skin softer than even the plush fleece of the spacesuit. Adam was so small and looked even smaller in the too-large kigurumi pajamas. How such a fragile little thing was interested in a boorish, violent, aggressive son of a bitch like Nigel… It was impossible question to answer and it made him question – not for the first time – how the hell he’d gotten so fucking lucky. Of all the people in New York, Adam had chosen to share his bed, his _life,_ with Nigel.

“Nigel, you’re staring again.”

“You can’t stare at fucking art, baby. And you’re a goddamn masterpiece.”

Adam buried his face in Nigel’s chest, a vain attempt to hide the furious shade of scarlet that coated his cheeks, “Nigel…”

“I fucking mean it. My own private gallery right here in my fucking lap in some private park for rich pricks.”

“I think we should go home now.”

“Anything you want, angel.”

“Anything?”

Nigel growled hungrily and kissed him again, gently biting Adam’s lip “Fucking anything.”

Adam paused, eyes sparkling mischievously, and it made Nigel impatient and horny – a state of being that only intensified as Adam shifted in his lap. “Tell me what went wrong in Tokyo.”

Nigel blinked, the mood killed by the subject of work.

“Your pajamas hide your feet, not the bruises on your cheek. Or your bandaged hand.”

Nigel pulled the fabric of the paws over his bad hand, “Son of a –“

Adam cut him off with a finger pressed to his lips, “However, that can wait until the morning when the light is better to clean up your injuries. For now, I want to go home, get into bed, and have sex until we fall asleep.”

Nigel chocked out more Romanian curses and stood up, still clutching Adam against him. Adam laughed as he was carried back towards the park gate, wrapping his legs around Nigel’s waist.

“Don’t forget the blanket!”

“Fuck the blanket,” Nigel growled. “I’ll buy you as many fucking blankets as you want tomorrow. My fucking rocket man.”

“Astronaut.”

“Whatever.”


End file.
